John and Miriam
by Bohemian Anne
Summary: A young couple sets out for a new life in America...aboard the Titanic.
1. Chapter One

Chapter One

"John, wait! You're going too fast! I can't keep up!" Miriam Anders Calvert raced after her husband, raising John's two-year-old daughter, Mary, up so that she could see.

John stopped near the dock, staring up in amazement at the great ship Titanic. Miriam caught up to him a moment later, and stared as well, although not with the same fascination as John. She had been on many ships in her life; nevertheless, she was delighted with the huge ship.

"Almost makes you wish you'd gone first class like your parents wanted," John commented, watching the first class passengers boarding the ship, up above the rest of the passengers.

"Not really. I've been in first class all my life. Third class is much more relaxed, and more fun. Besides, Father only sent me enough money for one first class ticket, so I couldn't have been with you two. And," she added, grinning at him, "that would be a real scandal. What kind of wife boards a ship with her new husband, and then rides in first class while he and his daughter ride in third?"

"You were the one who insisted we get married before going to the United States."

"Yes, well, if we'd come back without getting married first, my parents would no doubt have found a way to separate us. They can't do that now."

"I still can't believe you're giving up first class life. Some people would kill to have the lifestyle you're throwing away."

"I know. That's one of the reasons why I don't want to live that way anymore. You don't really think that all those rich robber barons in first class got their money through peaceful means, do you? I'd rather earn money that is untainted by blood."

"You could have done that without marrying me, you know."

"Maybe. But I find life much more pleasant when sharing it with the man I love."

"You're not bad yourself," he teased, leaning over around their luggage and Mary to kiss her.

Some of the first class passengers boarding the ship had noticed the scene below them, and began murmuring amongst themselves in shock. Miriam recognized one man, smirking down at her. Pulling away from John, she grinned merrily and gave him the finger.

John stared at her in shock. "What was that all about?"

"Just a former suitor, Caledon Hockley. One of the most arrogant men in the world." She looked up. He was trying to pretend he hadn't noticed her insult. Miriam glanced at the young woman on Hockley's arm, recognizing her also. Rose DeWitt Bukater. They had been in finishing school together.

Miriam shook her head. "I wonder how she wound up with him. She didn't seem to be the sort who would put up with him."

"Who?"

"Rose Bukater. The girl on Hockley's arm."

"Maybe he changed."

"I doubt it. She didn't look very happy."

John watched the couple disappear inside the ship. Shrugging, he turned to Miriam. "Why don't we go through the inspection queue now? I'd like to get on board soon."

"We're not going through the inspection queue."

"What? Miriam, the rules clearly state that third class passengers must pass the health inspection before coming on board."

"Those health inspections are a waste of time. They use the same implements on everyone. If a person isn't sick getting on, they're liable to catch something while being inspected." She picked up Mary again. "Come on."

When they approached the entrance, they were asked the standard question. "Have you been through the inspection queue yet?"

"Of course," Miriam replied, with just a hint of superiority. "Quite a while back, in fact. We were just passing time admiring this lovely ship."

The officer didn't quite know what to say to this approach. Finally he stammered, "Right. Come aboard."

John shook his head in amazement. Every time he thought he knew Miriam, she surprised him.

It was just one of the things he loved about her.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"It's all in how you present yourself," Miriam explained as they walked through the steerage section of Titanic, searching for their room. "That officer was used to obeying people who considered themselves superior to him. When I acted like I was superior, he was so well-trained to obey that he didn't have a chance to realize that we're just steerage people."

"Just steerage people?" John commented with a grin. "Now you sound like you think that he's superior to us." He sobered. "Did you think you were superior to him?"

Miriam thought for a moment. "No," she responded. "I think all people are equal, whatever their position in life."

They had found their room by this time and hurried inside. Miriam looked around in dismay.

"Bunk beds! I knew I should have booked passage sooner. Maybe we'd have been able to have a double bed that way." She looked closer at the beds. "Although, I suppose that two people could fit into one of them if they were very tolerant." She gave John an innocent smile. "Do you think we could be that tolerant?"

John smiled, playing along. "Oh, I think we could manage. But not until after Mary is asleep."

"Good point." Miriam noticed people looking in at them and quickly closed the door. "Did you see how some people were staring at Mary?"

John shrugged. "Well, I guess that they don't expect to see a little girl dressed in Slavic clothes with an English couple."

"I wish they wouldn't stare. Mary might get the idea that there's something wrong with being different. Even though she's little, she still knows her own mind, and I'd hate to see her convinced that that is wrong."

John nodded in agreement. "She does have a mind of her own. Still, you've got to admit that she might be a little easier to dress if she didn't throw a fit when not allowed to wear the clothes her Slavic grandmother made for her."

"Yes, it would. I allow her to wear them, though, because it makes her easier to handle on other issues, such as eating. I think this is why it's called the terrible twos."

John laughed. "You're probably right." He paused. "How about we put up our things and go out on deck? The ship will be sailing soon, and I'd like to see the shoreline pull away."

"That's right, you've never been on a ship before." Miriam tossed her and Mary's things on the top bunk of Mary's bed. "It is kind of fascinating, watching the shore disappear from view." They headed for the door.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

They arrived on deck just as he ship was beginning to pull away. All around them, people were shouting and waving to those remaining on the docks. Next to him, John could hear an Italian accented voice saying, "You know somebody?" followed by an American accented voice replying, "No, that's not the point. Good-bye! Good-bye!"

Neither John nor Miriam said a word as they watched the people on the docks slowly recede, although Mary laughed and shouted at the commotion. Before the ship had gone far, they heard shouts coming from the front of the ship. The powerful suction from the Titanic's movement had pulled a smaller boat free of its moorings, and the two had nearly collided. Several tugboats had hurried to the rescue and had brought the other boat back where it belonged, but the incident created a feeling of nervousness among some people.

Miriam leaned out over the railing, watching. Her mouth tightened nervously. Mary, squeezed between Miriam and the railing, shrieked in protest. Miriam stepped back and handed the child to her father.

"Maybe I should have booked us passage on a more seasoned ship," she commented, looking back out at the docks.

"The Titanic is supposed to be unsinkable," John reminded her, watching as the shoreline once again began to recede in the distance.

"I know, but it hasn't really been tested yet, so how can anyone be sure? I haven't heard anything about anyone trying to punch a hole in it to see if it still floats."

"They probably wouldn't have called it unsinkable if there hadn't been a lot of precautions taken to insure that it didn't sink."

"Well, let's hope not. I really don't want to go swimming in iceberg infested waters."

"I'm sure it'll be okay. Even if the ship isn't unsinkable, I read in the newspaper that the captain has twenty-five years of experience. I think he should know how to steer this ship around any obstacles."

"You're probably right," Miriam conceded, but she was still worried as she glanced back out at the fading shoreline.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Hours later, Miriam was still thinking about the near collision. As she dressed for bed, she noticed John watching her with concern.

"Are you still thinking about what happened today?"

"Yes."

John sighed. "You know, if you're that worried about it, we could try to get off the ship in Ireland tomorrow."

Miriam shook her head. "No. I've been thinking about what you said about the Titanic being unsinkable. You're probably right. They probably wouldn't have called it unsinkable if there weren't a lot of safeties in place to prevent it from sinking. I've never been very fond of ships anyway. I'd almost rather travel in one of those new-fangled airplanes."

"An airplane?" John laughed. "I wouldn't want to try to cross the ocean in one of those. I don't think it would make it. You might as well try to fly to the moon."

Miriam laughed, too. "True. Although, it might be interesting to try. Going to the moon, that is. It would be nice to see if it really is made of green cheese, as my old nanny said, or if it's made of rocks like some scientists think." Glancing over at Mary, she slipped into the bottom bunk beside John.

John grinned. "She's asleep, is she?"

"It's been a long day. She's probably worn out."

John laughed. Then, sobering, he told her, "If you want to get off the ship, we can try to do so."

Miriam shook her head and kissed him. "No, I think that it's best to cross the ocean now and get it over with. I want to get home to America and get settled as soon as possible." Her voice was serious.

John turned toward her, pulling her into his arms. "Why? What's going on? Is this about your parents?"

"No, not this time. I already know that they won't approve of you at first, but I think they'll eventually come around. After all," she said, grinning, "I did exactly what they wanted me to do. They sent me off to Europe to find a husband, and I found one. You aren't quite what they had in mind, but I'd rather be with you than any of the rich men they would have liked me to snare. Once they understand that there's nothing they can do, they'll come around."

"Miriam, are you sure this isn't about your parents? You're not trying to shock them, are you?"

Miriam was surprised. The thought had never occurred to her. "No, that's not it at all. I hadn't even thought about that."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Then why are you so eager to get home?"

Miriam took a deep breath. "I just found out...I was waiting for the right moment to tell you..."

"Tell me what?"

"I-I'm...I mean, I don't know how you'll react..."

"Miriam..."

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out.

It took a moment for John to comprehend what she had said. "Pregnant? Are you sure?"

"Yes. I saw the doctor just before we left."

"That's fantastic! How far along are you?"

Miriam was grateful for the darkness that hid her blushing face. "About two months. This baby got started not long after we were married."

"Miriam, this is wonderful. It'll be good to have a baby around again. And Mary will have a little sister or brother."

"I'm glad you feel that way. I was almost afraid that you'd be angry or something."

"Why would I be angry?"

"I don't know...some men might not want a child so soon."

John kissed her. "If I hadn't wanted children, I would have taken precautions." He paused. "Miriam, do know if it's still safe for us to..."

Miriam snuggled into his arms. "I asked the doctor about that. Yes, as long as there are no complications, it should be safe."

John kissed her deeply then, and pulled the blankets over them.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Early the following afternoon, John, Miriam, and Mary were sitting on the third-class deck enjoying the warm sun and the cool breeze. Mary had met another little girl and they sat trying to communicate, Mary trying to make the other child understand English and the other child trying to make Mary understand Arabic.

John and Miriam watched this exchange with amusement, noting that the two children were still managing to have fun despite their differences. Miriam spoke up.

"If more people could think like those two do, and understand that there really is no difference between groups of people, we'd all be a lot better off."

John nodded and was about to respond when several dogs bounded onto the deck, yanking at their leashes. The dogs' owners tried desperately to control their unruly animals, excited after hours of being locked up.

A young Irishman standing near the railing voiced his opinion.

"Typical. First class dogs come down here to take a shite."

A young blond-haired man responded. John recognized him from when the ship had left Southampton. "Let's us know where we rank in the scheme of things."

The rest of the exchange was lost to John as a servant came out on deck leading a small puppy—one of Mary's favorite things. The little girl noticed immediately.

"Puppy!" she screeched, jumping to her feet and running toward the little animal. Her friend followed.

In an instant, both little girls were standing next to the puppy, petting it and trying to pick it up. The puppy was delighted. At last, here were people who wanted to play! The servant was not so delighted. As the little dog jumped around the two girls, yipping happily, he gave its leash a sharp tug. Yelping, the puppy fell on its face.

"Get away from him, you little mongrels," he told the girls, shoving the Arab girl aside. Mary was shocked and surprised. All she had been doing was playing with the puppy! She started crying.

By this time John, Miriam, and the other little girl's mother had hurried to the rescue. The Arab woman picked up her child, sending a look toward the servant that spoke volumes. Seeing this, John mumbled, "If looks could kill, that man would shark food now."

Miriam was sending a similar look toward the arrogant lackey. When John picked up his crying daughter, Miriam stomped toward the servant.

"Excuse me," she spoke to him, putting her sweetest voice on. "Why did you call those little girls mongrels?" She said this very innocently, as if she couldn't imagine why he would say such a thing.

He just looked at her and moved farther away. The puppy, who had been trying to lift his leg, whimpered as he was dragged along.

Miriam followed the man. "I asked you a question," she said, anger creeping into her voice. When he still didn't answer, she asked him sarcastically, "What's the matter? Can't you speak?"

People were staring now, some in shock, some in delight. It wasn't every day that someone from third class stood up to someone from first class. Someone snickered.

Furious, the man turned to her. "Those little wharf rats could have ruined a perfectly good show dog, teaching him their bad manners."

"What bad manners? Playing with a puppy is going to teach him bad things? I think the puppy was happy enough to play with them."

"Listen, girlie, those children..." he spoke the word children with a sneer, "...those children had no business playing with this dog. If they want a dog, they should find some mutts to play with. Animals like that would suit them just fine."

Miriam looked around at the people watching the argument. "I wonder how many people would disagree with you?" she asked sweetly.

"Most of them don't understand English anyway. It doesn't matter what they think. Now, get out of my way," he told her, yanking on the puppy's leash again. The puppy was beginning to get desperate.

"Not until you apologize," Miriam told him, blocking his path. Two bright spots of color burned high in her cheeks as she strove to control her temper.

"I have nothing to apologize for," he told her, smirking. "Now move!"

"Why should I obey you? You're nothing but a servant. I bet you didn't even pay your own way on this voyage."

Frustrated, the man moved to slap her, but changed his mind when John grabbed his arm. Looking up, he debated challenging the third class passenger, then quickly decided against it. John was easily six inches taller than him. Looking around, he noticed several other third class passengers staring at him hostilely, obviously understanding every word he had said. He decided to leave.

Dragging the whimpering puppy along, he reached the door. Turning back to glare at the assembled passengers, he failed to notice the puppy lifting his leg over his shoe. Yelping, he pulled his foot back as the animal relieved itself. The crowd burst out laughing. Face red, the man stormed off, pulling the much happier puppy along with him. Miriam walked slowly back to where she had been sitting, uncertain what John's reaction would be. To her relief, he was laughing too hard to say a word. When he finally stopped laughing, he looked at her and shook his head, almost beginning to laugh again.

"There's never a dull moment with you, Miriam," he commented. "Though I did worry for a minute when that bastard tried to slap you."

"I didn't think he'd do me any real harm—not with so many people around. Besides, I knew I could count on you," she told him, leaning back and relaxing. "That look on his face when he saw you was priceless! I bet he isn't used to being challenged by anyone who could beat him in a fair fight."

Mary tugged at Miriam's skirt. Miriam picked her up and set her in her lap. "Puppy, Mommy?" Mary asked her hopefully, looking in the direction the servant had gone.

"No, Mary," Miriam told her, shaking her head. "I can't get that puppy for you."

Mary's face fell in disappointment. Before she cry again, though, John took her face in his hand and turned it to face him.

"I'll tell you what, Mary," he said, leaning forward as if to impart a great secret. Mary perked up and looked at him closely. "When we get to America, there will be plenty of puppies there. As soon as we can, we'll get you one of the cutest, cuddliest, most playful puppies around. It'll have big eyes, and a wagging tail, and it'll think you're just the best owner it could possibly get. Sound good?"

"Yes..." Mary mumbled. Catching sight of her friend, she struggled to get down. The two little girls began to play together as the second girl's mother sat down beside Miriam and smiled shyly. She hadn't understood the words of the argument, but she knew exactly how Miriam felt.


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

That evening, the Calverts ate dinner with Mary's new friend and her mother. Both John and Miriam were mildly surprised that no man accompanied the Arab woman, but didn't know how to ask her about this.

Mary and her friend communicated through a few words, some gestures, and funny facial expressions. Occasionally, when the two grew too boisterous, one of the adults would speak to them or fix them with a stern look that calmed them down, if only for a moment. It was at one of these times that Miriam heard the mother of the other child use a word from the French language. Surprised, Miriam, who had learned French in school as a child, turned to her.

"Parlez vous Francais?" she asked, trying to hide her surprise.

The other woman nodded and explained in heavily accented French that she had learned the language from her husband, who had been a trader.

Miriam nodded; French was a very common trade language. After a moment, she remembered her manners and asked what the woman's name was.

In response, she learned that the woman's name was Kiran, and that her daughter's name was Nadia. Miriam introduced herself, John, and Mary, translating Kiran's words into English. John nodded to Kiran absently, trying to understand the conversation without much success. French wasn't generally part of the education of a working class English boy. Kiran and Miriam spent the rest of the meal talking, leaving John to watch over the two rambunctious children.

Kiran explained to Miriam that she was traveling on her own. This was unusual for women of her culture (and, Miriam replied, for women of most cultures, since it was felt that a woman needed a man's protection and guidance). She and her husband had been planning to come to America, as business had not been good, but before they could leave he had caught smallpox and died. She pointed to a few small scars on her face, evidence that she had also come down with the disease but had survived. Nadia had remained healthy.

Kiran had returned to her parents' home, where she cared for her mother during the last few months of her mother's life. After her mother had died from tuberculosis, her father had tried to arrange another marriage for her, but neither she nor the young man her father had chosen were particularly interested. After his attempt to marry Kiran off had failed, her father had agreed to allow her to travel to America, providing that her brother accompany her. He had traveled with her through Europe to France, where they were to board at Cherbourg. He had changed his mind about going to the United States at the last moment, however, and, after escorting Kiran and Nadia on board the ship, had left. Kiran hadn't realized what he had done until she had seen him waving at her from the dock as the ship was pulling away.

Miriam was shocked. How, she wondered, could a man show so little consideration for a member of his own family? She had seen a number of less-than-wonderful things done in the time she had spent on her own in Europe, but she had yet to meet a man who would callously abandon his own sister in a strange place. She realized, of course, that such things did happen, but she had assumed that such things were rare, and had never expected to meet someone who had experienced such a thing.

Kiran admitted to being a bit frightened, having never been on her own before, but said that she had heard so many good things about opportunities in America that she felt quite certain that she could find a way to live.

Miriam held her tongue, not wanting to make Kiran more nervous, but she had learned a few things about "opportunity" in America. In the two years that she had been a Socialist, she had taken advantage of her wealth and education to investigate the way that these "opportunities" actually worked. She had viewed sweatshops, including one owned by her own father, and had realized that "opportunity" was severely limited for those who did not have money and education. Kiran, she realized, was in an even worse position, not speaking English, and hoped that some of those businesses that made a practice of hiring immigrants at very low wages would give her a chance. Most of these businesses, however, hired mainly European immigrants, and work could indeed be hard to find for one of another race, even hard, dangerous sweatshop work. Miriam mentioned none of this, but she did tell Kiran that, if she wanted, Miriam might be able to help her find a job. She mentioned that her father was a wealthy businessman, and might well know where jobs could be found.

Kiran brightened considerably at this, and Miriam winced inside, hoping she had not given her false hope.

As the meal ended, John asked Miriam to come outside with him for a while. Miriam translated this to Kiran, who offered to watch both children if they wanted some time alone. Miriam translated this to John, who smiled and nodded at Kiran, then bent down to Mary to explain that he and Miriam were going out for a little while and she could play with her friend until they got back. Mary grinned happily and ran after Nadia, heading towards a large group of children. John and Miriam nodded their thanks again, and headed for the deck.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

John and Miriam walked out onto the third-class deck. Miriam shivered slightly in the cool night breeze, and John put his arm around her, pulling her close. They made their way over to the railing. John hadn't spoken since they had left the table. Absently, he leaned against the railing, his arms still around Miriam.

"Penny for your thoughts," Miriam spoke, leaning out over the railing and gazing at the black expanse of water below.

"What language were you speaking?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"French," she replied, surprised. "I thought you would recognize it."

"It sounded somewhat familiar, but where I'm from there are a lot of immigrants, and I never learned to really understand any language except English."

"There's a lot they don't teach you in working class schools."

John shrugged. "True, but I learned enough to make a living. I think I did pretty well, even without a fancy education." His voice had taken on a bit of an edge.

Miriam noticed. "John, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult your background. I just think that there's a lot of good skills that those schools could be teaching, but they aren't. We all deserve an equal education, and equal opportunities in life."

John relaxed, forgiving Miriam for her unintentional slight. "Doesn't everyone have those opportunities in America? That's the impression I got from listening to people who were going to immigrate."

Miriam frowned slightly, then shook her head. "I wish that America really was the land of opportunity that it's made out to be, but it's not. For all that people talk about equality, there's a deeply ingrained class consciousness. Maybe not as great as in England, but it's there nonetheless."

"But, surely, there must be some things that are better—"

Miriam shook her head. "A few things, maybe. America is a much younger country than England, so customs aren't so sanctified by time. There's more space, too, so people don't have to fight so hard for everything. But there's a lot of inequality, too. The people on top—people like my father—try to maximize their profits as much as possible, and they don't care who they hurt. If they can make an extra dollar, they'll fire someone who is struggling to survive, and hire someone else who will do the job more cheaply."

"Then perhaps you should blame the people who take the jobs, rather than the owners."

Miriam just looked at him. "John, if you were a new arrival to America, not speaking much English, without many marketable skills, wouldn't you do whatever was necessary to keep yourself and your family alive? That's why many people take those jobs. They don't come to America with the intent of pushing people out of their jobs. They come to find opportunity. For many, those ill-paying sweatshop jobs are a great opportunity. Many had little or no money at home, and those jobs look really good to them. I blame the owners because they don't care who they're hurting. Everyone deserves a good chance at life, but the people in charge only care about themselves."

"The owners need money, too."

"But not as much as they're getting. It's obscene that people are going hungry while the rich throw lavish parties, live in expensive houses, and buy things that they don't need, that they'll often never use. And all the while they're doing these things, they look down their noses at those less fortunate. Many speak of Social Darwinism, the idea that the poor are inferior. They say this despite the fact that many in their own ranks were once poor themselves, or are descended from poor immigrants and laborers."

John thought for a moment. Some of what Miriam said did make sense, but he wasn't so sure that the rich were really so bad. There were so many rumors of the land of opportunity—America—that he felt that some of them had to be true. "Miriam, might your view not be—"

His words were cut off by the sound of terrified screams coming from the stern. Wordlessly, he and Miriam looked at each other, then set off running toward the back of ship. By the time they came within view of the stern, the source of the screams—a young woman from first class—had been pulled back over the railing by a young man from third class. Miriam didn't recognize her at first, with her wild hair and streaked makeup, but then recognized Rose DeWitt Bukater. Both of them stood back as two sailors came running, not wanting to interfere. Miriam was stunned as Caledon Hockley, Rose's fiancé, came rushing out and began shouting at the young man, who was being hand-cuffed.

"That sanctimonious—"

John clapped a hand over Miriam's mouth, not wanting to attract attention. Miriam jerked her head away.

"They're arresting him—when he just saved her life!"

John noticed something else, though—the young woman was defending her helper against her fiancé. After a moment of discussion, the young man was released, and Hockley began leading his fiancée back inside. John watched for a moment longer, as something else was said, then he and Miriam turned and slipped silently away through the darkness. After a moment, John spoke.

"You see, Miriam? Not all of the rich are horrible."

Miriam muttered something unflattering about Hockley under her breath as she followed John back inside.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

There was a party in steerage the following night. John and Miriam brought Mary to the party with them, and Kiran volunteered to watch her while the two danced. After making several rounds of the dance floor, John and Miriam were hot and tired-footed, so they sat down near Kiran and the children for a while. John got himself a beer, but much to his surprise, Miriam refused to drink one herself.

"Not as good as champagne, huh?" he teased her.

Miriam laughed. "Actually, I never liked champagne either. Or wine. Or brandy. Alcohol just never tasted good to me."

"Probably for the better. You'll never wake up with a hangover that way."

"Well, just don't drink too much. If Mary is tired enough to go right to sleep later..."

John was about to reply when he noticed two people from first class entering the room. He stared, as did many others. "What are they doing down here?" he asked, not sure he liked the idea of the staid, snotty upper class members coming to a steerage party.

"Maybe they want a thrill...no, wait! I recognize them! That's Rose Bukater, and the guy with her is the one who saved her from falling overboard last night," Miriam replied.

A few people still stared hostilely at them, until a little girl ran up to the young man and reminded him that she had been promised a dance. Recognizing him now, the party-goers went back to their celebration.

Miriam watched as Rose grabbed a mug of beer and gulped it down. Grinning, she remembered similar shocking behavior on occasion in boarding school.

"I take it you know her?" John asked.

"We weren't really friends or anything, but yes, I know her. We went to boarding school together. I see she hasn't changed a bit."

Rose was protesting loudly as the young man pulled out onto the dance floor. "No, Jack! I couldn't possibly, Jack!" she shouted, grinning in delight the whole time.

Jack, Miriam thought. Rose's fiancé would be livid when he found out that she was dancing with him.

"Her fiancé is going to be upset if he finds out about this," Miriam commented, watching the pair whirl around.

"Her fiancé? Wasn't that the gentlemen you gave the one-fingered salute to a few days ago?" John asked.

"Oh, yes. And I still don't see what she sees in him."

"You said that he was a former suitor of yours."

"Yes."

"Did you like him?"

"Only at first. Once things got a little more serious he started to act like he owned me. He tried to control where I went, how I acted, who I saw. I didn't like it, so I broke off the relationship. He kept trying to continue it for a while, until I confronted him in public. It wasn't a pretty scene, and my parents were so scandalized that they sent me to Europe post-haste."

"Didn't they send someone with you?"

"They sent a maid, but she married someone in Germany and stayed behind."

"I noticed you didn't have anyone along when we met."

Miriam shook her head. "The ship docked in France, and from there, after touring Paris, we headed to Berlin in Germany. My maid, Judith was her name, met a man in Berlin and fell in love with him. I headed to Britain shortly after their wedding."

"Where you met me."

"Right."

John turned his attention back to Jack and Rose. Rose was now attempting to stand on the points of her toes. After succeeding for about two seconds, she fell into Jack's arms. John noticed the enormous diamond ring on her finger and pointed it out to Miriam.

"That may be what she sees in him."

"What?"

"Money. Look at the size of that diamond."

Miriam looked, then glanced at her plain gold band. "I think I got a greater treasure."

John raised an eyebrow. "How so? I'd bet that ring is considerably more valuable than yours."

She smiled at him, seductively. "She may have a diamond ring, but she also has him. I, on the other hand, have a plain gold band—and you. You're the greater treasure."

John laughed. "You are something else, Miriam. You wander around Europe, either alone or with only a maid, and not just in the finest neighborhoods either, you marry a man that you know won't be accepted by your society, you accept another woman's child as your own, and you are willing to cross the ocean in steerage, even though you don't like sailing." His brow furrowed. "Why don't you like sailing, by the way?"

Miriam thought a moment. "I think it's because of a bad experience I had when I was a child. I was about three years old one winter when I decided to go outside and play without my nanny to watch over me. She was taking a nap, and apparently assumed I was, too. I went outside, and noticed that the fish pond was frozen over. I tapped on the ice, and then decided to see if I could walk across it. There were still some fish moving under the water, and I liked the idea of standing over them. I walked out a few feet, and discovered that the ice wasn't all that solid. I fell right through, and my clothes were so heavy that they pulled me right down. I would have drowned if the man shoveling the snow off the walk hadn't heard me scream and come running. I survived, and my parents forgave my nanny for letting me outside unattended, but I have been afraid of water ever since. I never even learned to swim."

"But what does that have to do with boats?"

"Boats float over deep water, and I'm always afraid of falling overboard or being trapped on a sinking ship..."

Miriam noticed another man from first class peering down the stairwell—Spicer Lovejoy, Caledon Hockley's faithful manservant. His eyes lit on Rose for a moment, and his mouth tightened. Then, as he turned to go back up the stairs, he noticed Miriam watching him. She smiled sweetly and waved. Lovejoy rushed back up the stairs.

"What was that all about?" John asked, noticing Miriam's wave.

She burst out laughing. "That was Spicer Lovejoy, Caledon Hockley's servant. Apparently Mr. Hockley is trying to keep a close eye on this girlfriend, too. Lovejoy tried to keep an eye on me when I was with Cal," she explained, noting John's puzzled expression.

A new dance was starting up. John, distinctly uncomfortable at discussing Miriam's ex-suitor, grabbed her hand. "Come on, let's dance."

And as they joined hands with other people and whirled around the room, Miriam forgot all about Caledon Hockley and Spicer Lovejoy, forgot about everything except the thrill of the dance, and John's arm around her waist.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

"There's a church service in first class this morning," John told Miriam at breakfast. "Do you want to go?"

"Amazing. They're actually letting third class people into first class areas," Miriam grumbled, sipping at a cup of coffee.

John sighed. Miriam was never at her best first thing in the morning.

After a few more sips of coffee, Miriam nodded. "I'll go. If any of those people there know me, it'll be fun to see the looks on their faces. Miriam Anders, daughter of a wealthy businessman, married to steerage trash."

John ignored her comment. "I was thinking of bringing Mary along, too. She needs to go to church sometimes, even though she's really too young to understand what's going on."

"It's never too early to teach children about religion. My father taught me to be a good little Christian when I was her age."

"You sound rather bitter."

"He just didn't want me being Jewish like my mother. He thought that it was some big sin or something."

"If your father thought your mother was so terrible, why did he marry her?"

"It was an arranged marriage. Besides, she had money."

John nodded, suddenly understanding some of Miriam's dislike of the upper classes.

"Much to his dismay, I never really learned to tell the difference between Christians and Jews, or any other groups for that matter. There were a few Jewish students at the boarding school I went to, and it took me a while to figure out why some of the other girls were so mean to them. One of them finally told me that she was Jewish."

"Did they ever bother you?"

"No. I don't look like a stereotypical Jewish person. I have straight hair, and I didn't follow any dietary restrictions. I ate bacon and ham along with everyone else."

"What did your mother think about that?"

"She never said a word. Technically, she became a Christian when she married my father, but she still won't eat pork, and she goes to the synagogue once in a while." Miriam paused. "I went with a few times. I soon learned that there isn't really much difference between Judaism and Christianity."

"Do you have something against Christianity?"

Miriam shook her head. "No. Once I was able to learn about religion on my own, I found that there was a lot of good in it, and that it was much like any other religion. I just don't like having ideas forced upon me."

"Somehow I'm not surprised."

"I still can't tell different religious or ethnic groups apart, though, unless they have some really distinguishing feature, like a different language or skin color, or a different way of dressing. Even then, half the time I don't notice." She smiled. "Remember when I first met Mary and her grandmother, and I thought they were Russian? I thought her grandmother was going to have a fit. I had no idea what she was so upset about until you explained to me that they were Slavic, not Russian. I still can't tell the difference, though. People look like people to me."

John laughed, remembering the incident. "She was rather proud of her heritage. Her husband brought her to Britain looking for work, and she never quite accepted it. She liked it even less when she named her daughter Jana, and Jana insisted upon being called Jane."

"Did people bother them because they were foreigners?"

"Some did. I think that's why Jana wanted to be called Jane. I called her Jana just once, and she got so mad...I thought she was going to walk out that door and go back to her mother."

"Is that why Mary's grandmother didn't want to come with us when we left England?"

"That's part of it. As long as she is in England, she has hopes of going home. Also, she wants to stay near the graves of her husband and daughter."

John fell silent, remembering Jana, his first wife. Their marriage had not been an easy one, but he had loved her just the same.

Miriam's voice brought him out of his reverie. She was wiping syrup and grease off Mary's hands as she spoke to him.

"Come on, let's go get dressed. We must make a good impression on the upper crust," she said, imitating the snooty way in which some of the upper class ladies spoke. Picking up Mary, she started back to their room.

John followed her, barely suppressing a laugh at Miriam's tone of voice.


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

The Calverts arrived in first class shortly before the church service was to begin. Mary was openly impressed with the fancy artwork and furnishings, and ran about shouting and touching things until Miriam picked her up and refused to allow her to run about. Miriam sympathized with the little girl's excitement, but, noticing the disapproving stares and whispers of several first class people, she restrained the child. She didn't want the family to be sent away because of the two-year-old's antics.

When they arrived in the room in which the church service was being held, Miriam immediately noted the strict seating arrangements—first class people up front, second class people in the middle, and third class people in the back.

Scowling, she commented to John, "Why can't people sit where they want? Are those first class people really so afraid of being contaminated by third class trash?"

John was about to reply when he caught sight of Miriam's former suitor, Caledon Hockley, sitting near the front. Hoping to avoid a scene, he hurried toward the back.

Miriam followed him, still grumbling. She quickly noted that the seating rules were very strictly enforced, as she watched a first class man being led out of the third class section by one of the stewards.

"Sir, this section is for third class only. You need to sit up front with the other first class people."

The gentleman from first class stopped, refusing to move any farther.

"I am here to listen to the word of God, and it is impossible to understand God's word when you are surrounded by uptight people more interested in how they compare with everyone else than in religion." He pulled a twenty dollar bill from his pocket and offered it to the steward. The man was about to accept it when he noticed one of his superiors coming toward him.

"I'm sorry sir, but you must sit up front—"

"Mr. Niethammer?"

The steward's words were cut off as Miriam approached the gentleman. He turned to her in surprise.

"Miss Anders! I didn't know you were on Titanic," he replied, glancing at her plain, unadorned clothing and third class companions.

"It's Mrs. Calvert, actually. I'm traveling third class."

"So I see. Is this your husband?"

"Yes. This is John, and his daughter, Mary. They're from London."

Mr. Niethammer looked at the little family, then back at the first class section, were his wife was waiting impatiently for him to sit down.

"I envy you, Mr. Calvert. First class is no place to hear the word of God." He paused. "You wouldn't happen to want to switch places with me, would you?"

John laughed. "I don't think that would go over too well, sir. They're about to start," he added, "and I think your wife is going to have an attack of apoplexy if you don't join her."

Niethammer laughed, a bit ruefully. "You're right, she would. Good to see you again, Mrs. Calvert. Nice to meet you, Mr. Calvert, Mary." He hurried forward to join his wife. John and Miriam slipped into seats at the back of the room.

"Mr. Niethammer 'got religion' a couple of years ago," Miriam explained to John. "He's very devout, and always chose to sit as far away from others as possible in church in New York."

"You knew him well?"

"He and my father went to college together. They weren't exactly friends, but they did associate to a certain extent, for business and such."

John opened his mouth to ask another question, but the service started and he decided to ask more questions later.

The service went by with no disruptions, except for once during the singing of the hymn 'Eternal Father Strong to Save', at which time a small boy in second class loudly bellowed at the end of the second verse "for those in barrels eating pears," drawing snickers from other children sitting nearby and drawing disapproving looks from adults.

Miriam tried to keep a straight face at the boy's antics—his voice had been clearly audible throughout the room—but a small laugh escaped her before she could stop it. She glanced around and noticed that she was not the only adult who found the boy's antics amusing—Mr. Niethammer in first class was being quietly scolded by his wife for laughing.

The commotion calmed by the end of the third verse, and as Miriam sang it—"For those in peril on the sea"—she felt an inexplicable chill move over her, though the room was warm. It was probably just her fear of sailing, she thought, but through the rest of the service she couldn't help thinking of the rumors she had heard at breakfast...rumors of icebergs in the area.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Late that afternoon, Miriam was walking near the stern with Mary and Nadia. John was inside, playing poker out of sight of the stewards, while Kiran had taken advantage of the opportunity to take a nap.

Mary and Nadia ran ahead of Miriam, giggling in delight. Miriam hurried to catch up, grabbing Nadia just as she attempted to climb the railing.

Holding one child in each arm, Miriam held them up so that they could look out over the ocean. The sun was setting, and the water reflected the brilliant colors.

Miriam set the girls down. They scurried over to a bench and began playing. Miriam stared down at the water.

The sunset on the water was a beautiful sight, but Miriam could not shake her worry. More rumors of icebergs had been reported that afternoon. A steward had assured her that the rumors were only that—rumors, but Miriam wasn't so sure. She had been on ships before, in iceberg-infested waters before, and it seemed to her to be perfect conditions for icebergs—cold, early spring weather.

Miriam was wrested from her contemplation by the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to see Rose DeWitt Bukater coming toward her.

Rose looked rather nervous, and Miriam was about to ask her what was wrong when Rose spoke.

"Have you seen Jack Dawson?"

Miriam thought for a moment, then remembered that Jack had left the poker game shortly after John had joined it, saying something about the bow.

"He said something about the bow. He might be there," Miriam suggested.

"Thank you," Rose replied, turning to leave. She stopped, turning back around to face Miriam. "How did you wind up in steerage?"

Miriam would have snapped back a reply to most people asking that question, but Rose seemed genuinely curious. "I got married shortly before my parents sent for me to come back to the United States. They only sent enough money for one first-class ticket. I wasn't about to leave my husband or stepdaughter behind, so I bought three steerage tickets." She grinned. "Besides, steerage is more fun anyway."

Rose smiled. "After experiencing both first class and steerage, I have to agree with you." She glanced in the direction of the bow. "It was good seeing you again, Miriam. Perhaps you can come to call sometime after we get back to America."

"Perhaps," Miriam agreed.

Rose nodded, then, glancing towards the bow again, she turned and hurried away.

Miriam watched her go, then turned to watch the two children playing beside the bench. She thought about Rose for a moment, and then smiled. Hockley would have his hands full with her—if the marriage ever actually happened. From the way Rose spoke of Jack, Miriam felt that it was quite possible that Caledon Hockley would soon be losing another girlfriend.

Taking the two little girls by the hands, Miriam headed back inside. The weather had grown considerably colder, and as they reached the door, Miriam turned back once more to look at the ocean. She saw no icebergs, but the calm, flat sea seemed to her to be waiting.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

            Miriam went to bed early that evening, but had difficulty falling asleep. When at last she did fall asleep, she was plagued by dreams of icy water closing over her head.

            Late that night, as she was dreaming of home, she felt the walls of her old room jolt suddenly, and begin to make a screeching, ripping sound. She jumped awake, but the sounds continued.

            She felt John reach for her hand. He had heard the sounds, too. For a moment the ship moved on as if nothing had happened, but then, slowly, ominously, the engines came to a stop.

            Miriam sat up in bed, shaking. "What happened? Why have the engines stopped?"

            John got out of bed and turned on the lights, looking around the room. Mary still slept peacefully. Miriam was standing beside their bunk, shaking, her face as white as the sheets.

            "Maybe it's nothing. Maybe there's just a problem in the engine room, or maybe it's too dangerous to travel out there, so they've stopped the ship for the night."

            "What about that screeching noise we heard?"

            John shook his head. "I don't know. I'm going to go out and find out. Why don't you stay here with Mary?"

            Miriam was shaking so hard she had to sit back down. "We're sinking!"

            John tried to soothe her. "Not necessarily. This ship was designed not to sink, remember? Even if something has happened, they'll likely be able to repair the damage. And if not, everyone will just get into lifeboats and wait for a rescue ship."

            Miriam was slightly mollified. She tossed John his robe.

            "Hurry. Find out what the problem is. We'll wait right here."

            John slipped on his robe, gave Miriam a quick kiss, and headed out the door.

            Miriam sat on the floor beside Mary's bunk. The child was beginning to awaken, and Miriam held her hand and began to pray.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

John returned about twenty minutes later.

"You're right. We are in trouble. The area toward the bow has about two inches of icy water, rising fast."

Miriam pulled Mary from her bed and got to her feet. "We need to get out of here, then."

John nodded. "People toward the bow are dressing and putting on their lifebelts. Most of them are heading for the main stairwell." He took Mary from Miriam before she could drop her.

Miriam was already grabbing clothes from the suitcases. "We need to dress warmly. It'll be cold out there, and those lifeboats offer no protection. Here!"

She tossed John his wool suit and coat, then picked up Mary's boarding outfit. "I'll dress Mary. You see if there's any lifebelts in here."

Miriam helped the frightened, whimpering child to dress. The action calmed her somewhat; at least she could do something to help assure their survival. After pulling on her wool Sunday dress, Miriam helped John search for the lifebelts. They finally found them in a cabinet above Mary's bunk. There were only two.

John tossed one to Miriam. "Put this on. You don't know how to swim." He tried to put the other one on Mary, but it was so large that she slipped right out of it.

"Here, put this one on her," Miriam said, starting to untie her lifebelt.

"No. Keep it on. I'll wear this one. There are probably more lifebelts up above. Hopefully, one of them will fit Mary. A lifebelt won't do her any good if she sinks right out of it."

John's words snapped Miriam back to an awareness of their predicament. She remembered the icy water closing over head when she was a small child not much older than Mary, and she shuddered. The ocean was so much deeper than that fish pond had been; if Mary sank, no one could pull her out before she drowned.

John noticed Miriam's face pale, and put a comforting arm around her. "Come on, let's go up on deck. The sooner you and Mary get into a boat, the better."

"Let's hope you can get into a boat before the ship sinks, too," Miriam replied.

"Even if I can't, I'm a strong swimmer. I'll survive."

Miriam didn't voice her thoughts: if he wound up in the cold water, his limbs would stiffen before he had a chance to swim. Even if he managed to stay afloat, the cold would probably kill him before much time had passed.

Trying to push those thoughts out of her mind, Miriam followed John as he picked up Mary and headed for the main stairwell.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

The stairwell was crowded with people by the time they arrived. On the other side of the locked gate, a steward was trying to calm people, assuring them that they would be released when it was time. A number of people didn't believe him. John, Miriam, and Mary stood near the foot of the stairs, listening to the people begging to be let out and the steward's staunch refusal. Miriam was growing paler by the moment.

"Just hold on, Miriam," John told her. "They'll let us out of here soon enough."

"I hope so!" she retorted. "They're probably afraid we'll riot and deprive the first class people of the boats."

Something occurred to John. "I know that women and children are supposed to board first, but I've never heard anything about class status having anything to do with rights to lifeboats. Why are they holding us down here, unless they think there's a chance that not everyone will get a boat?"

Miriam didn't want to consider the possibility. "There's laws about that. There's got to be enough boats." She paused, trying not to imagine the consequences of too few boats. "There has to be."

At that moment an officer approached the steward. They spoke in low tones for a moment. Then, the steward unlocked the gates. "Bring forward the women and children," he shouted. Several women hurried forward, as did several men. "Women only!"

John shoved Miriam forward. "Go on, get out of here. You and Mary can get into a boat. I'll get out there as soon as I can."

Miriam hugged John, then picked up Mary. She hurried toward the gate.

At that moment, several men ran past the steward, either not understanding his directions or too panicked to care.

"Women and children only, damn you!" the officer shouted, shoving several people back inside. He and the steward quickly closed and locked the gate again, shoving people away and firing a gun in the air.

Miriam was pushed back down the stairs. Rushing back to John, she gasped, "They won't let us out!"

Just then, another couple arrived at the gate. Soaking wet, they looked like they had been swimming in the flooded portion of the ship. Miriam recognized them as Rose DeWitt Bukater and Jack Dawson.

Two men ran down the stairs to greet them. "It's hopeless this way," one of them shouted. "We've got to find another way out!" Jack replied. Grabbing Rose's hand, he turned and ran towards another hallway, followed by the two men.

"Come on!" John grabbed Mary from Miriam and headed after them, Miriam right on his heels.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

The group finally reached another gate, but it too was locked, with a steward guarding it. There was much argument, but still the steward refused to open the gate, insisting that they go back to the main stairwell, where everything would be sorted out. Finally, three of the young men tore a bench from its bolts and broke down the gate. The third class passengers ran out, while the steward still told them that they couldn't come through. One of the young men hit the steward in the jaw, and he dropped.

Miriam stopped for a moment to make sure the steward was all right, but he was already sitting up and holding his jaw. John grabbed Miriam's hand, and they ran for the deck together. When they finally reached the deck, there were no boats in sight. Miriam looked around, horrified. John had been right. There weren't enough boats. Miriam ran to the railing. A few boats floated out on the ocean, too far away to get into. Most were only half full, or less.

John set Mary down. "I'm going to look on the other side," he told her. "There might be some boats over there." He hurried off.

Miriam strained to see beyond the crowd to the other end of the ship, hoping that a few boats might be left. She started walking toward the stern.

John returned a few moments later. "You're headed in the right direction," he told her. "Most of the remaining boats are up that way."

They turned and ran toward the stern. When they reached the boat, Miriam pushed closer to the railing, hoping she could get into the boat before it was full. "John!" she shouted over the uproar.

"What is it?"

"Give me Mary. She'll be okay in the boat, even without a lifebelt."

John looked shocked. "I thought you had her."

"No, I...oh, no! Mary!" Miriam suddenly realized that the child had been lost in the commotion. Pushing her way out of the crowd waiting to board the boat, Miriam called frantically for the little girl.

"Where did you last see her?" she asked John.

"Near where we came out on deck. I put her down next to you."

"I didn't even notice. Oh, God, John, I'm so sorry."

"I should have put her in your arms. Let's go back to where we left her and hope she's still there."

They ran back to where they had left her, but there was no sign of the child, and no one had seen her. Trying to control her shaking hands, Miriam took a deep breath. Trying not to imagine what might have happened to the child, she told John, "I'll look around down here, and inside, too. You look for her toward the stern, and inside there."

"All right. If one of us finds her, we need to let the other know, and then try to get the two of you into a lifeboat."

Giving Miriam a quick kiss, John turned and ran toward the stern, while Miriam hurried down, toward the bow and the deep, icy water.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Miriam hurried about the bow end of the ship, searching frantically for Mary. The bow was tilting farther and farther into the water, sending ever more people scurrying toward the stern. Mary was nowhere to be found.

A horrible thought struck Miriam. What if Mary had slipped, unnoticed, into the water? She could easily have drowned or frozen to death. Stopping to look around, she prayed that this was not the case.

Fear for the child spurred her on. Miriam rushed frantically through the parts of the ship that were still above water, hoping against hope that Mary would be there.

After about forty-five minutes of searching, Miriam stopped, exhausted, admitting to herself that Mary was probably gone.

Moving to the railing, she scanned the few boats still near the ship, hoping that someone might have picked the child up and put her in a boat. There was no sign of her.

Most of the boats had been launched, although hundreds of people still raced about frantically on board the sinking ship. The first class band, which had been playing upbeat music since the sinking began, had begun to play slower, more melancholy tunes. As Miriam listened, one man began to play the hymn _Nearer My God to Thee_. The other band members soon joined him, playing one last prayerful tune for the ship and her passengers.

Listening to the music, Miriam began to sing softly along with it.

_Nearer my God to thee,_

_Nearer to thee,_

_E'en though it be a cross_

_That raiseth me._

_Still, all my song shall be_

_Nearer my God to thee,_

_Nearer my God to thee,_

_Nearer to thee._

Several other passengers joined in.

_Though like the wanderer,_

_The sun gone down,_

_Darkness surroundeth me,_

_My joy a stone._

_Still, all in dreams I'll be_

_Nearer my God to thee,_

_Nearer my God to thee,_

_Nearer to thee._

Miriam's voice broke off. She couldn't go on. Turning away, she saw the last boats being launched and headed toward them. Mary was gone, and she had not seen John since they had split up to search for the child. She could only hope that she and John would both survive.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

People were crowding around the boats, trying desperately to find places within them. As Miriam pushed her way through the crowd, she noticed that Kiran and Nadia were in one of the boats. Happy that her friend would survive, Miriam worked her way closer to that boat.

As she drew closer, she suddenly heard a plaintive wail coming from behind a pile of ropes, barrels, and life preservers. Stopping, she listened more closely. The little voice was wailing, "Mommy! Mommy!"

Pushing her way out of the crowd, Miriam hurried closer. When she saw the child, her heart overflowed with joy and relief. Mary stood, nearly hidden by the piled objects, crying. Miriam moved closer, trying to climb over the mess. Before she could reach the child, however, a man picked her up and carried her toward the boat. Miriam gaped in shock for a moment, realizing that the man was Caledon Hockley.

What was he doing with her? she wondered. The answer soon became apparent. Holding the little girl, he pushed his way through the crowd, shouting, "I have a child! Please, I have a child!" When he reached the boat, he looked at the officer loading it pathetically. "Please, I'm all she has in the world." The officer nodded, and Hockley put Mary into the boat, then climbed in himself.

Miriam was furious. How dare he use an innocent child to save himself? Her anger faded quickly, however, as she realized that at least the little girl was alive and safely within the boat. She pushed her way forward again, trying to get into one of the remaining seats. The water was rising, almost floating the small boat. Miriam hesitated, her fear of the bitterly cold water momentarily overshadowing her need to get into the boat.

At that moment, a wave washed over the deck, sweeping the half-launched boat up and turning it on its side, spilling out most of the passengers, before righting itself again.

Miriam froze. At that moment, a snapping sound issued from the cables supporting one of the huge smokestacks. Unable to support its own weight, the smokestack tilted, then came loose, crashing down on the people in the water—including Kiran. Miriam waited, hoping her friend would reappear, but she did not.

Several people had managed to scramble back into the boat, while a few others had remained inside it. Ignoring the cold water, Miriam hurried forward, trying to get a place in the boat before it was full. Halfway there, she stopped, frozen in place, realizing that Mary was no longer in the boat.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Miriam looked around frantically. Where was Mary?

Splashing through the icy water, she looked around the boat, but the child was not there. Several people had climbed back into the boat, and, as she watched, one woman reached out and pulled a sobbing Nadia from the water and wrapped her in a blanket. But there was no sign of Mary.

Miriam turned to look over the railing—and saw her. The little girl was floating face-down in the water.

Miriam looked around. People were running, screaming, shouting, and doing everything they could to survive. No one noticed Mary's plight. She would have to rescue her herself.

Taking a deep breath, Miriam climbed up on the railing and reached for the child. Leaning forward as far as she could, she grabbed for the edge of Mary's dress.

It was too far. She couldn't reach her.

Looking around again, Miriam realized what she would have to do—go into the water after the little girl. She started to climb over the railing, then froze, fear coursing through her. She couldn't do it.

She couldn't do it.

She had to.

Taking a deep breath, Miriam climbed over the railing and lowered herself into the water. She gasped as the icy water soaked through her wool dress, quickly stiffening her limbs. She would have to get Mary quickly.

Clinging to the railing, Miriam lowered herself the rest of the way into the water. Her life belt held her up as she reached out to grab Mary, but she was freezing fast.

Miriam stretched out as far as she could without letting go of the railing, which was even now sinking further under the water. It was still too far.

Desperately, Miriam lunged forward, her fingertips still clinging to the railing. She grasped for the child's dress, finally gripping a loose string.

The string came off in her hand, but the act of pulling on it was enough to send Mary drifting toward her a few inches—close enough to grab the hem of her dress.

In moments, Miriam had Mary in her arms and was climbing back over the railing. Moving a few feet away from the rising water, Miriam laid Mary down on her back and checked to see if she was still alive.

The child's heart was beating, but she wasn't breathing. Miriam turned her over and pounded on her back, trying to expel the sea water from the little girl's lungs.

Mary didn't stir. Desperately, Miriam turned her back over and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, trying to breathe for her.

Just as it seemed her efforts would be in vain, Mary choked, coughed, spit up sea water, and began to cry. Miriam pulled the girl into her arms and held her tight, trying to comfort her.

After a few moments, Mary stopped crying and simply clung to Miriam. Miriam stood up, looking around for the boat. It had drifted some distance from the deck—still near, but too far away for her to reach. Nevertheless, she had to get Mary into the boat.

Setting Mary down, Miriam untied her lifebelt. Prying Mary away from her legs, she pulled the lifebelt over the child's head, then watched in dismay as it slipped off the tiny shoulders. Tying it as tightly as she could, Miriam looked around for something else to help secure the child in the garment.

Seeing nothing, she glanced around in despair until she realized that the sash on her dress would serve to tie the little girl into the lifebelt.

Untying her sash, Miriam yanked at it until the heavy fabric tore. Her dress gaped open in spots, but that was of little concern—she could always get another dress...if she needed one.

Looping the sash around Mary, Miriam tied it tightly, securing the little girl in the lifebelt. Picking her up, she held her close as she walked to the railing.

Miriam hated what she would have to do next, but there was no other way. She had throw Mary toward the lifeboat and hope that she would get there. If she did not...Miriam suppressed the thought of the child drowning or freezing to death just a few yards away from safety.

Embracing Mary one last time, Miriam tossed her as far as she could over the railing into the water. Mary's shocked scream was cut off as she went under, them came back up, choking and struggling. Much to Miriam's relief, the child's struggles carried in the direction of the boat.

On board the boat, one of the men, Caledon Hockley, tried his best to club people trying to climb aboard. Brandishing an oar, he hit one man, shoving him beneath the water. Miriam could only hope that he would miss Mary.

Mary's struggles had carried her close to the boat now, and the same woman who had rescued Nadia reached for her—just as Cal sent the oar crashing down once again, narrowly missing Mary. The child's terrified scream split the air.

The woman grabbed Mary's lifebelt with one hand and grabbed the oar with the other. Her voice raised in angry protest as she informed Cal that such a small child was not likely to swamp the boat.

Letting go of Mary's lifebelt for a moment, she wrested the oar from Cal's hands, then pulled the child into the boat. Cal grabbed the oar and began beating people away with again, while the woman wrapped Mary in a blanket and set her beside Nadia. Recognizing her friend, Nadia put her arms around Mary.

The woman who had rescued the children was looking around, trying to locate Miriam. Turning away, Miriam started walking up the rapidly tilting boat deck, tears streaming down her face. Even if she could swim, she would never be able to get into the boat. She could only be grateful that Mary had found a seat and a protector.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Miriam continued to climb up the tilting deck. Stopping every so often, she looked out at the sea, hoping to see a rescue ship approaching. The ocean remained empty.

Two-thirds of the way up, Miriam heard a familiar voice calling her name. "John!" she shouted, waving at him with one hand while holding onto the railing with the other.

John heard her calling and turned around. "Miriam!" Holding onto whatever he could find to keep from sliding down the deck, he made his way over to Miriam, grabbing her hand and swinging over to the railing. They embraced, so happy to have found each other that for a moment they forgot their plight.

Then John sobered. Noting Miriam's tear-streaked face, he stated, "You didn't find her."

Miriam clung to him. "I did."

John was startled by this. "Where is she?"

"She's in a boat."

"Why didn't you get in, too?"

"I couldn't."

For the first time, John noticed Miriam's torn dress and missing lifebelt. "Why didn't you just get in the boat? Even without a lifebelt, you would still have been all right. Where is your lifebelt, anyway?"

"I put it on Mary. She almost drowned, John."

"But—how?"

Miriam told him the whole story, from Hockley's unexpected rescue of the child to her throwing the child in the direction of the boat so that she would have a chance to live.

John grabbed the railing tighter as the ship tilted farther. He held Miriam tight with his other arm. "Thank you, Miriam. You could have just abandoned her and saved yourself, or kept the lifebelt on and had a better chance of surviving."

Miriam shook her head. "I couldn't have done that. She's just a little girl. Besides, she's as much my daughter now as she is yours. I couldn't abandon her any more than I could abandon my own child."

John opened his mouth to speak, but was suddenly struck from behind by someone tumbling down the deck. Losing his grip on the railing, he fell against Miriam, who also let go. In seconds, they were both sliding down the deck, grasping desperately for something to hold onto.

John managed to grab onto the railing near the bottom of the deck, but Miriam was not so lucky. Tumbling sideways, she slammed into a piece of railing that separated one level from another. She landed hard on it, stomach first. A sharp pain shot through her mid-section, and she felt blood beginning to trickle down her legs.

Her baby! Gritting her teeth against the pain, Miriam tried to climb to a safer spot within the railing, but another cramp rushed through her, and she froze, gasping with pain.

Another person hit the railing, narrowly missing her, and Miriam knew that she had to get out of the way. Ignoring the pain, she inched out to the edge of the railing, then leaped toward the railing around the deck, barely grabbing it.

Clinging with one hand to the railing, Miriam kicked her feet, struggling to find purchase in the slippery deck.

She finally succeeded in climbing onto the railing, but another falling person nearly knocked her off again. Trying to ignore the pain just a little bit longer, she climbed over the railing and clung to the outside, trying not to look at the dark, icy water below.

Looking back onto the deck, she saw John holding onto the railing far below. Glimpsing her, he gestured to her to climb down, but at that moment another cramp seized her and she shook her head, holding onto the railing for dear life.

A strange cracking sound issued from the ship, and suddenly it began to split. Miriam watched as the piece of railing that John was clinging to bent and broke away, sending him tumbling into the deep split in the ship.

As the above-water half of the ship came crashing down, Miriam lost her own grip on the railing. Desperately, she tried to hold on, but the impact jarred her loose. Screaming, she tumbled into the water.

The icy cold ocean closed over her head, dragging her down as she struggled to reach the surface. Her heavy wool skirt wrapped around her legs, impeding her movement, and the weight of the sodden material pulled her down like a stone. Miriam managed to surface once, flailing helplessly against the water, trying, too late, to learn to swim. Then the water closed over her head again, and she felt herself sinking into the icy sea.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

John tumbled into the huge chasm as the ship split in two. Unable to grab onto anything to break his fall, he fell one deck before slamming into the broken floorboards. A sharp pain went through his ribs, but the blow had saved his life. Instead of falling deeper into the broken ship, he tumbled out into the water, falling in just a few yards from the ship. Struggling to the surface, he broke through the icy water just in time to see Miriam lose her grip on the railing and fall into the water. As she disappeared beneath the surface, John lunged toward where he'd seen her fall. Taking a deep breath, he dove under the water. At first, he felt nothing but the icy water and the pain of his cracked ribs. As the cold water numbed him, however, he was able to concentrate upon finding Miriam. Groping desperately, he found a handful of long, blonde hair. Pulling, he brought them both up to the surface.

Miriam choked, gasping for breath, as she broke the surface. John let go of her hair and grabbed her arm, holding her up out of the water. As soon as Miriam could speak, she gasped, "We have to get out of here! The ship is going to suck us down!"

Already, the ship was rising out of the water again, the stern vertical with the water below. It bobbed up and down, but the sounds of water exploding up inside it warned of its imminent demise.

John nodded, realizing that she was right. Although he had never been on a ship before, he had spent enough time by the water as a child to understand how such things worked. "Grab onto my lifebelt," he told her, gesturing to one of the ties in the back, farthest away from his injured ribs. "I m going to try to swim away from here. I want you to hold on and kick your feet to help propel us through the water."

Miriam grasped John's lifebelt as he began to swim in the direction of some floating debris. Kicking her feet, she felt the pull as the ship began to disappear under the water. The suction was powerful, but John and Miriam managed to stay afloat. Reaching a floating deck chair, they watched as the flagpole—and the last of the people on the ship—disappeared beneath the surface.

In moments, the water was full of people thrashing and screaming, begging for help from the lifeboats assembled some distance away. Some people tried to swim toward the boats, while others fought over bits of floating debris, trying desperately to survive until help came.

John looked toward the boats, wondering if they could possibly swim far enough to get into one. He wanted to try, but common sense told him that they would never make it. His ribs, though numbed by the cold, still ached, and he feared that any extra movement would injure them further. He also doubted that Miriam had the stamina to hold on all the way to the boats, and there was no guarantee that he could get them into one, even if they did get there. He briefly considered attempting to swim to the boats and get help, but realized that help might not come in time to save Miriam, especially if something should happen to the deck chair they were clinging to. Miriam would be unable to even stay afloat in the water.

Miriam was having similar thoughts. "I don't think we can swim over to the boats," she told him, her teeth chattering against the cold, "but maybe we can get into one once they come back for survivors."

John looked doubtful. He recalled Miriam's story of Caledon Hockley beating away people who tried to climb into the lifeboat. Several minutes had passed since the ship went down, but the boats showed no sign of coming back. The screams and cries for help in the water were beginning to quiet.

Miriam was still hopeful. "All the screaming people might well have pulled a boat down, but now that things are getting quieter, maybe the boats will come back. There might be enough space for all the survivors."

John didn't reply. The screams had quieted around them, and he could hear a few voices from the area of the boats. He pulled himself up on the chair, trying to see what was going on, but dropped into the water again as the chair tipped and nearly went under. "Maybe," he told her.

The cold water was chilling them both. John put an arm around Miriam. "Miriam, if I don't make it, I want you to take Mary and the baby to your parent's home. I know you didn't part on the best of terms, but they're still your parents and they'll take care of you until you can get back up on your feet."

He stopped. Miriam's face had crumpled at the mention of the baby. "Miriam, what's wrong? Is something wrong with the baby?"

Miriam could hardly answer. "When we fell, John, I...landed on a section of railing, stomach first. There was pain, and bleeding...I think I'm losing the baby, John."

John's stomach clenched. Of all the misery that this night was bringing, this was the worst. "Miriam, are you still having pains?"

Miriam shook her head. "I haven't felt anything since after I fell into the water."

John knew that it was probably the cold that had stopped the pains, but he still tried to reassure her. "Maybe you won't lose it after all."

Miriam didn't respond. Snuggling closer to John, she tried to reply, but just didn't have the energy. Gratefully, she noted that at least it didn't seem to be so cold anymore. She was still shivering a little, but most of the chill was gone. She just felt very sleepy now. A deep instinct warned her that it was dangerous to sleep, but her cold-addled mind didn't listen. Resting her head on John's shoulder, she closed her eyes.


	21. Chapter TwentyOne

Chapter Twenty-One

A lifeboat with a few men aboard came slowly through the water. "Hello! Is anyone alive out there? Can anybody hear me?" one of them shouted. They rowed through the corpse-littered water, checking for survivors, grieving as they realized that they had waited to long to return. Nevertheless, they kept searching.

John's head snapped up, suddenly alert, as he heard the voices echoing from the rescue boat.

"Is anyone alive out there? Can anyone hear me?"

Holding onto the deck chair and Miriam with one arm, John raised the other, trying to get their attention. He tried to shout, but his voice came out in a hoarse croak, as frozen as the rest of him.

Luck was with him. One of the men was looking his way. "There's moving there, sir!"

In minutes, the boat had arrived at the piece of wreckage. Two of the rescuers reached to help John into the boat, but he insisted that they see to Miriam first. They looked at her doubtfully. Her head lay limply against John's shoulder, and she didn't move. "I think she's dead, sir."

John looked at him in disbelief, then turned to Miriam. Her head slipped from his shoulder, and she lay unmoving against the seat of the chair. One of the men felt for a pulse. There was none. John didn't want to accept it. There had to be some mistake. She had been alive only minutes earlier.

Reaching for her hand, he felt for a pulse himself. Feeling nothing, he let go of her hand, finally accepting that she was gone. The chair tilted as the men helped John into the boat. Miriam slid from it, and floated for a moment. Then, pulled by the weight of her heavy dress, she sank beneath the surface and disappeared. The last glimpse John had of her was her pale blonde hair, visible even in the darkness, disappearing into the depths.

A whistle sounded across the water, but John never heard it. Wrapping a blanket around himself, he settled into the boat, then collapsed, unconscious.


	22. Chapter TwentyTwo

Chapter Twenty-Two

            John awoke some time later. The boats were gathered together, and as he struggled to sit up, he looked around for Mary. He didn't see her. He consoled himself, however, that in the darkness it was hard to see anything, much less a small child who might well be asleep in the bottom of a boat. The Carpathia arrived near dawn to pick up the survivors. After being brought aboard, John began searching for Mary.

            In the confusion, it was difficult to search for anyone. People wandered around, searching for missing loved ones; children called for their parents; the occasional family was reunited. After searching most of third class, John still hadn't found her. Exhausted, he decided to sit down for a minute to rest before resuming his search.

            John sat down, closed his eyes, and was instantly asleep. A few hours later, he was awakened by a commotion. A man from first class had made his way to third class and was walking around, looking for someone. John noticed a young woman sitting a few yards away look at the man, then pull her blanket up over her hair, as if hiding from him. John watched as the man left, heading back up to first class. He recognized him now. Caledon Hockley, who had used Mary to get into a boat and then nearly let her drown.

            Hockley's presence reminded him that he still didn't know where Mary was. Rising to his feet, he walked over to a steward who had a list of names of survivors.

            "Who are you looking for, sir?" the steward asked as John approached him.

            "Mary Calvert, my daughter," John responded, trying to see the list.

            The steward checked the list, then shook his head. "I don't see her, sir." When he saw John's expression, he hastily added, "A lot of children haven't been accounted for yet. We've been trying to find their parents before taking their names. Might she be with her mother?"

            "I hope not," John mumbled. The steward looked at him in confusion before realizing what he meant.

            "Chances are, she just hasn't been accounted for yet. If I find her, I'll let you know."

            "Thank you." John turned away, tears brimming in his eyes. He'd lost Miriam and their unborn child; he couldn't bear to lose Mary, too.

            Walking toward the staircase, he nearly collided with a man dressed in the garb of a first-class servant. A high-pitched yip sounded from near his feet.

            Blinking back tears, John recognized the puppy that Mary had wanted to play with on the ship. Looking up, he recognized the servant who had so cruelly put a stop to the game.

            Anger rose up inside John, replacing his grief. This man, who had little respect for others, and this dog, had survived the sinking, while Miriam—and so many others—had not.

            For a moment, John considered picking a fight with the servant, but changed his mind when he saw the man's face. All traces of arrogance had disappeared, replaced by a look of profound exhaustion and sorrow. John started to walk by him, realizing that he probably couldn't win a fight right now, anyway, when the servant suddenly spoke to him.

            "Excuse me...uh, Mr..."

            "Calvert. What do you want?"

            "Sir, I...I want to apologize for what happened on board the ship a few days ago. It was uncalled for."

            "You're right, it was. Why are you apologizing now?"

            "I've been looking around the ship, trying to find you or your wife or your little girl...I think your daughter would like this puppy."

            John was startled. He hadn't expected this. "Won't your employer be upset if you give away his pet?"

            The servant shook his head. "My employer, Mr. Niethammer, went down with the ship. His wife doesn't want the dog, and frankly, I don't have any place to take this animal. My wife is allergic to dogs, and she'd be very unhappy if I brought it home."

            "Why didn't you think of that before you gave that animal some person's spot on board a boat?"

            The servant shrugged. "I didn't really think about it. Allegro here, that's his name, is so small that he could easily fit in a lap. I was recruited to help row, and he whimpered until I put him in the boat. He spent most of the night at my feet."

            John was weakening. He knew that Mary would love the puppy—if she was even still alive. "I don't even know where my daughter is, or if she's even alive. I've looked all over third class, and she's nowhere to be found."

            "Maybe your wife—"

            "My wife went down with the ship."

            The servant looked startled. "Sir, I'm sorry...about your wife." He paused. "Have you checked any of the other areas? There were a number of children in the second class dining salon. I tried to go in there, but it was too crowded. Someone did mention, though, that the orphaned children were being taken in there until things could be sorted out. She might be in there."

            John turned and headed for the stairs, a flash of hope burning through him. Why hadn't he thought of it? Mary could be elsewhere on the ship.

            "Sir..."

            John turned.

            "Do you want the puppy? If your daughter is there, she'll probably be happy to see him, and it might help soften the blow of her mother's death."

            John had been avoiding that thought—how to explain to Mary that Miriam was dead. The man was right, he realized. The animal's presence might help to comfort Mary, and, in the event that he didn't find her, the puppy might be a comfort to him. "All right." He nodded. "I'll take him."

            "Thank you, sir."

            The servant handed the puppy's leash to John. Giving the animal one last pat, he turned and walked away.

            The puppy followed as far as the leash would go, then began to whimper loudly. John picked up the little animal and cuddled him, quieting him. He felt an affinity with the creature, who had also lost those he cared about.

            Still cradling the puppy, John turned toward the stairs again, and headed for the second-class area; hope and trepidation warring within him.


	23. Chapter TwentyThree

Chapter Twenty-Three

            John slowly made his way toward the second class dining salon. A number of people stared as the bedraggled third class man wove his way through the second class area of the ship walking a dog from first class. One woman stopped him. "Sir, how did you manage to survive?" she asked, half-accusing, half-hopeful, as if his survival both increased the chances of other men surviving and decreased the chances of women and children surviving.

            "I was rescued from the water some time after the ship went down," John replied, wearily, wanting only to find Mary and then rest.

            "What of your family?"

            John was growing impatient with the nosy questions, but sensed that the woman needed to talk to someone, and that his survival gave her hope that her own husband might have survived. "My wife went down with the ship. My daughter...I don't know. I've been looking for her. Someone told me that some of the orphaned children were in the second class dining salon...would you happen to know where it is?"

            She nodded. "Go down that hall, turn left at the end, and it will be the first door on your right."

            John nodded, and turned to walk away.

            "Sir?"

            John turned back around. "Yes?"

            "I hope you find your daughter."

            His eyes softened. "Thank you." He headed down the hall, contemplating. A few days ago, the woman wouldn't have given him a second glance, considering him to be poor scum, below her lofty middle class status. Tragedy brought people together. John reached the dining salon and stepped inside, apprehensively. A quick glance told him that the room was full of children, along with more than a few parents, some being joyously reunited with their young ones, other walking around in dejection as yet another hope was dashed.

            Allegro whimpered in fear at the confusion, and John picked him up, his eyes scanning the room. Groups of children of every class were scattered about the room, some crying, some taking comfort from friends and siblings, others walking about, searching for their parents.

            John looked carefully at each of the groups, his heart sinking as Mary did not appear. Then, looking at the last group of children, sitting at a table in the farthest corner, he saw her—a little girl with reddish-brown hair sitting next to another child dressed in Arab clothing. John walked toward them quickly, praying that it was Mary. As he neared the table, he heard the child's voice, speaking in a garbled British accent around a mouthful of something. It was Mary! She was talking to the little girl sitting next to her—Nadia, he realized—trying to cheer her up. As he reached the table, he saw Mary try to offer Nadia a sip of the concoction she was drinking—probably hot cocoa.

            "Mary," he called.

            She whirled around, dropping the cup of hot cocoa into her bowl of soup. "Daddy!" she screeched, climbing off the chair and launching herself at him.

            As Mary wrapped her arms around his legs, he set Allegro down and picked her up. Mary clung to him, afraid that he would disappear. Then the puppy yipped, distracting her. "Puppy!" she shrieked, trying to get down to pet it.

            John set her down. She grabbed the animal, almost tripping over her long, damp skirt. Allegro yelped as she fell against him, then jumped up on her, licking her face and wagging his tail furiously. "My puppy, Daddy?" she asked hopefully.

            "Yes, Mary, he's your puppy now. His name is Allegro."

            "Egro," she repeated, hugging the animal. She looked around. "Where Mommy?"

            John hesitated. "She...isn't here, Mary."

            "Where?"

            "She's...gone to live with Jesus."

            "Oh." Mary contemplated this, not really understanding. "Mommy come back?"

            "No, Mary. Mommy won't be coming back."

            "Why?"

            "Because...when people go to live with Jesus, it's forever."

            "Nada's mommy go with Jes' too?"

            John remembered that Kiran had been caught under the falling smokestack. "Yes, Nadia's mommy is with Him, too."

            Mary thought about this for a moment. Her lower lip began to wobble. "Nada's mommy ina sea. Jes' ina sea, too?"

            John took her in his arms, trying to ignore the pain of his cracked ribs as she threw her arms around him. "When people go to live with Jesus, they go up to heaven."

            Mary looked at him, finally comprehending, in her childish way, that Miriam would not be coming back. There would be no visits, and Mary would not see her again. She burst into tears. "Wan' Mommy!" she wailed.

            John held her tightly, blinking back tears. "I know, Mary. I wish she was here, too."

            After Mary had cried herself out, John picked her up, intending to take her to the infirmary for a check-up before he found a place for them to stay for the rest of the trip.

            "Daddy, Nada!"

            John stopped and looked back. Nadia was trailing after them, her big, sad eyes watching as John walked away with her only friend. John stopped, hesitating. Nadia wasn't his responsibility, and he would be hard-pressed to care for another child in America, with no money or resources at his disposal. Still...he turned and took Nadia by the hand. He couldn't leave the orphaned child behind. She was all alone now, and, despite his own worry and grief, John realized that the little girl would be better off with the one person she knew, than with strangers who would know nothing of what she had suffered.


	24. Chapter TwentyFour

Chapter Twenty-Four

Three evenings later, John sat in one of the third class cabins watching the girls sleep. Both were clad in borrowed clothes belonging to other small girls. They were curled up in the lower bunk with Allegro snuggled between them, his back pressed against Mary and his head on Nadia's chest.

John smoothed a bit of hair out of Mary's face, then put a comforting hand on Nadia's shoulder as she whimpered and mumbled in a strange language. Allegro awoke, licked Nadia's face, then snuggled back between the two girls, tail thumping.

John looked at the children, relieved and almost disbelieving that Mary was still with him. When he had taken her to the infirmary three days earlier, the doctor had wrapped his ribs, and then examined both Mary and Nadia carefully. Nadia had been found to be in perfect health, but Mary had developed a slight cough that the doctor wanted to keep an eye on.

Within a few hours the cough had turned into pneumonia. John had sat beside her as the little girl tossed and turned with a high fever, struggling to breathe. Nadia had refused to leave her side, wailing whenever John had tried to take her away to get some rest. Finally, he had allowed her to stay, since she didn't seem to be in much danger of catching the disease. Allegro had curled up at Mary's feet, occasionally crawling up to her face to lick it. The doctor had tried to remove the dog, but after being nipped with sharp puppy teeth, he had simply pulled the curtain around the bed and allowed the animal to stay, out of sight of the other patients.

John, Nadia, and Allegro had kept watch throughout the night and into the next morning, with Nadia finally falling asleep in John's lap.

Toward noon, Mary's fever finally broke, and she awakened around two o'clock, confused, hungry, thirsty, and with a sore throat. She saw the concerned faces staring at her—her father, Nadia, and the dog—and promptly burst into tears.

Mary had stayed in the infirmary for two more days, until early this afternoon. The doctor had declared her strong enough to leave, if not fully recovered. The ship was going to dock soon, and Mary needed to join her family.

John went to the porthole window in the cabin and looked out. A light could be seen on the horizon, which soon grew to a whole city of lights. They were about to dock.

John walked around the room, picking up their few belongings—Mary's and Nadia's clothes, Allegro's leash, and a small toy that had been in Nadia's pocket. The clothes had dried now, except for one small spot on Mary's dress, by the pocket. John put his hand in the pocket, wondering if Mary might have put something in there.

He pulled out a wad of green paper. Startled, he looked closer, verifying that it was, indeed, money. Where Mary had gotten it, he had no idea, but he knew he needed to return it to its owner, no matter how tempting it was to keep it.

John glanced at the two girls, then decided that it wouldn't hurt to count the money. Perhaps the owner would be glad to get it back and would offer some of it as a reward.

The money was in American dollars, mostly hundreds and twenties, with a few ones scattered inside. John felt several hard objects inside the wad, and opened it to see what they were. There were several coins inside, a few British, a few American, and a few German. John frowned as he saw a two tailed American silver dollar. Hadn't Miriam had a coin like that?

He spread out the bundle, and a small gold locket fell from it. Inside was a water-damaged picture of a woman who resembled Miriam. Something was written on the back of the last bill. John looked at it closely.

_If you are reading this now, it probably means that I am dead. Please tell my parents what happened to me, as they may not recognize my new last name. Show them this locket and the two-tailed silver dollar as proof. Keep the money. I can no longer use it._

_Miriam Anders Calvert, 1:02 AM, April 15, 1912_

An address for an upper class neighborhood was written below the note. John was stunned. Miriam must have tucked the money into Mary's pocket before putting her in the lifeboat. Counting it carefully, he realized that it was the money left after purchasing their tickets on the Titanic. There was well over 3,700 dollars here. John wasn't sure of the value of a dollar compared to a pound, but he knew that there was more than enough money to get them started in America.

Tucking the money into one pocket, and the silver dollar and locket into another, John woke the girls to dress them in their own clothes.

The ship was approaching the dock.


	25. Chapter TwentyFive

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Carpathia docked in New York late that evening. Hundreds of concerned relatives, reporters, and curiosity seekers swamped the dock, eager for news and glimpse of the survivors.

The rain was pouring, driving the remaining passengers to seek shelter on the ship. John stood inside the third class gathering room with Mary, Nadia, and Allegro. An officer was walking around, getting a last minute count of the survivors before they left the ship.

He approached John. "Can I get your name, sir?" he asked, pen poised above the paper.

John looked up. "John Calvert," he said. The officer gestured to the two children. "Mary, my daughter, and..." John made a quick decision. "Nadia, my niece."

"Thank you, sir." The officer moved away, looking for other survivors.

Two hours later, the last of Titanic's survivors exited the Carpathia. John walked down the dock, stopping for a moment to look at the Statue of Liberty towering over the crowd. Gazing at it, he wished Miriam was there to see it. Even though she had been cynical about the true meaning of the statue, he sensed that she would have been glad to see it, to start a new life in America. And, that, after all, was what thousands of people came here to do.

John took one last look at the statue, then took Mary and Nadia by the hands and walked into the crowd, with Allegro scampering ahead of them on the end of his leash.

John made his way through the crowd, then moved onward into the city.

Into a new life.

The End.


End file.
